14. Wilson
fourteen
wilson
I should have pulled the cameras down at her place a week ago.
Three weeks of us together had gone by in the blink of an eye. Easily the best three weeks of my life. I ended and started each day at Lana’s place. Sleep was something that came easier than it ever had. And if I woke up in the middle of the night, she had this way of wrapping her body around mine that made it impossible for me to do anything but relax.
I stared at the screen of my phone, unable to focus on whatever trillion emails I needed to respond to. My beautiful Lana was working in her home office. Her fingers moved across the keyboard like a pianist making music. The graceful way her fingers tapped away. And when she stopped and stretched, rolling her delicate neck this way and that, I was so distracted by the sight of her I didn’t hear my stupid cousin knock or walk into my office until he yelled.
“Boo!”
“What the—“ I glanced up and frowned at Lark. “What the hell is your problem?”
“Man, I knocked and called out your name, like, ten times before I walked in. Let me guess? Watching your girl through those secret little cameras you set up?”
“Lark—“
“You have a couple of blind spots. You could have fixed that by changing the?—“
“What do you need?” I asked, not about to take pointers on how to watch my girl from him. I knew it was time to take the cameras down and take the tracker off her phone, but I couldn’t get myself to do it. Just like I hadn’t been able to stop myself from adding the tracker to the new car she purchased.
“We need to talk.”
“About?”
“A fundraiser. Talking to Tor when you went on your little escapade to Wyoming, I thought about it and liked the idea. It’s time.”
“Time for what exactly?” A brow rose as I sat straighter, waiting to hear what the hell my crazy cousin had up his sleeve.
“Time for Harding Holding to give back to the community and host a ball. Something classy that raises a shit ton of money for…” He paused, but we both knew it was for dramatic effect. “I don’t know… an inner-city school. In a nice ballroom with access to a rooftop area that could be filled with romantic twinkle lights and flowers.”
“An inner-city school, huh?” My jaw clenched. “Let me guess… you already have the school you would like us to help?” I guessed.
“Thank you for asking, Wils. I actually do.” He winked and sat forward, then rested his elbows on his knees.
“And does this have anything to do with those… voyeuristic endeavors you mentioned we had in common?” A Cheshire-like grin appeared on his face.
“You’re brighter than my brothers give you credit for, Wils. You really are.” I chuckled and shook my head.
“This is legal, right?” I had to ask. “This isn’t some weird thing that can get you locked up?”
“Weird thing?”
“I mean, whoever he or she?—“
“She,” he cut me off.
“—is of legal age?” I continued. He looked at me with disgust.
“Of course, she is!” he scoffed. “She’s a teacher,” he shared, and I could tell he didn’t like having to do that. “She’s… incredible and“—he sighed—“won’t give me the time of day.” I chuckled because I’d been there. “Figured something like this… she wouldn’t have much of a choice. What do you think?”
“A fundraiser,” I repeated. “A ball.” I liked the idea of having somewhere to take Lana all dolled up and showing her off. Making it more official than we already were.
“You tell me when and where, work with our event coordinator, Jess.”
“Just like that?” he asked, obviously surprised. I chuckled.
“Just like that.” I shrugged. “Anything else?” I asked, watching Lark closely.
“This donation… I want to be the one to draw up a contract… with a stipulation.”
“For the school?” I asked, and he nodded.
“I want to make sure her position is secure for as long as she wants to teach there,” he laid out. I sat there, observing him for a moment. There hadn’t been many times when I saw him squirm, and that was what he was trying not to do.
“What does she teach?” I finally asked, breaking the silence between us.
“She’s a music teacher.” I bit away the smile that threatened. Interesting development. Lark had fallen for a music teacher.
I had a list of questions, but instead of interrogating him, I simply nodded, seeing Lark through a whole new light. I wasn’t saying he was a selfish son of a bitch, but the guy could be a little self-centered at times. Seeing him give a shit about someone other than himself or those in his family was nice.
Shit, I am getting soft. Not that I cared.
Love changed you, and I guess it had changed both Lark and me.
“Sounds good. Do it. Just let me know the details so I can tell Lana.”
“And will we finally meet her?” I grinned.
“Will I be meeting your little teacher?” I retorted.
“Yes,” he assured me with a confidence of a man more than in love.
It was obvious Lark was as obsessed as I was. Maybe this thing inside of me was genetic?